


Nightmare

by BkZa555



Series: The Broken Fool [2]
Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fear, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BkZa555/pseuds/BkZa555
Summary: Makoto dreams more often than he cares to count, and usually, his dream isn't a good one.Sometimes, it would be his parents' car going up in flames on that bridge years ago. Sometimes, it would be him choking another boy to death when he was drowning.And as time passes, the dreams get increasingly more debilitating, scarier, more painful than the last.//Or; Makoto has a nightmare and wakes up in the middle of the night.(Work as a stand alone.)
Relationships: Arisato Minato/Takeba Yukari, Persona 3 Protagonist/Takeba Yukari, Takeba Yukari/Yuuki Makoto
Series: The Broken Fool [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185629
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is what happened when I cannot sleep. What did I do, you ask? Why, writing something out of a prompt of course!
> 
> I'm so sorry ;_;

**_Broken Fool – Nightmare_ **

Makoto dreams more often than he cares to count, and usually, his dream isn't a good one.

Sometimes, it would be his parents' car going up in flames on that bridge years ago. Sometimes, it would be him choking another boy to death when he was drowning.

This time, it's different.

The antidepressants and the psychiatrist visits and Aragaki's warm arm don't help much against the dreams (the nightmares), and as time passes, the dreams get increasingly more debilitating, scarier, more painful than the last.

Sometimes, he would dream of Takaya when he was shot open and bled out half to death on the cold, concrete floor of a forgotten alley, eyes staring back up at the moon as it mocked and laughed at him. Some other times, it's him choking Yukari with his own hands while he was under the Lover Shadow's influence, feeling her skin giving ways under his fingertips, feeling her life ebbing away by the force of his own hands.

This time, his dream is hazy and ill-defined, blotted spots of long-gone memories and something he couldn't quite discern. He feels himself falling into pieces, feeling Death's scrawny, cold fingers on his cheek as it pulls the life and soul of everyone he loves away.

He watches in horror as, one by one, his _home_ (the SEES is his home. They're all his family. They're all important to him) shatters and bleeds and melts into the void. He reaches for Kirijou as she looks at him, mouthing _why_ under her breath, and breaks into little pieces of ice upon the touch of his fingers. He tries to grab Koromaru, who whines softly and Amada, who's looking at him with accusation and fear, who screams horridly when he finally grasps his shoulders in his hands before turning into dots of lights that float away into the darkness above.

Makoto scrambles, his legs so incredibly weak and half-paralyzed, as he sees Yamagishi bleeds from her eyes and ears, burning under the invisible flame of decay that burns her skin away until the bones remain. When he manages to speak out hoarse plea for this to end, Sanada and Aragaki are both grabbed by the neck by _his Orpheus_ , their bodies strung up by the Master of Strings' steel-clad wires, and he feels his own mouth moves as he orders his own other self to—

 _Snap_.

The sounds make him feel sick, and he falls to his knee, hitting the boundless, shadowed floor beneath him, both hands over his mouth as he tries to stifle both the sob and the bile that are threatening to rip themselves out of his throat. He doesn't look up, not even when blood is seeping through the black-smoke and to his knees. But he has to when he feels footsteps approaching him.

He looks up, and gasps when he is tackled backwards, Yukari's soft hands around his throat, a reverse of what he did to her before, months ago, in that accursed love hotel. He tries to breathe, but it's cut out, his throat closing off under the strong grip. He doesn't try to fight – he doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not her—

It is then that he sees Yukari glaring straight at him, eyes bloodshot, her neck sporting ugly bruises in the shapes of his fingertips. He whimpers, and the grip on his throat tightens, and everything is muted and cold, his own sanity shuddering shakily under his skin. He grabs her wrists, pulling weakly, but stops when she whispers the few words he dreads to hear the most.

 _"_ Why did you kill us?"

"It—wasn't—" He tries, but his words fail him, and for a moment, he believes that all of this is real, that he has killed _everyone_ with his own hands and—

"You killed us!" She screams, and all he could do is whimpers under the intense gaze as she snarls and screeches at him the _truth_ that he is denying. "You killed all of us! Why!? After all we've done for you!"

 _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ —

* * *

"—koto. Makoto!"

He gasps awake, only slightly aware that what he had just seen is just a dream, a _fucking dream—_

"Makoto," The voice calls again, and he forces himself to look, to see Yukari looking down at his form with worry. She touches his cheek, spreading wetness across it, and he reaches his own hand to that spot, and realizes that he was – _is?_ – crying. "Makoto, talk to me. Are you okay?"

For a while, he couldn't. His thoughts are muffled and silenced, buried under the veil of his own fear and insecurities that will never leave, under the sludge of all the ugly things, all the unforgivable that he has done in his life. He forces himself to gulp, the content of the nightmare still fresh at the forefront of his mind, and when he could find his own voice again, he says, quietly, carefully, as if afraid that he would kill her if he speaks too loudly. "I'm… I'm okay."

"Don't lie to me," She says with a scowl, sitting up fully and placing a careful hand back on his cheek, and he flinches instinctually at the touch. But her hand is so kind and so warm, so he relaxes himself into it, closing his eyes and internally reminding himself that _this_ is real, and that she is here, that everyone is still here and not dead by his hands. "Makoto."

"Just… nightmare," He mumbles, roughly wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. Yukari stops him, and he complies, letting his arms fall limp at his side as she uses the edge of her sleeve to carefully rubbing the wetness off of his face. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"Don't apologize, idiot," She mumbles, leaning down and placing a careful kiss to his forehead. He relaxes at that, and hums when she lies back down, her head right next to him, her breath tickling his cheek ever so gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"…No," He says after a pause, his brows furrowing just minutely. "I… no, I don't want to."

"Okay," She states simply, and before he could do anything, pulls his head into her chest, her fingers carding his hair with utmost care. She nuzzles the top of his head, and he feels so warm, and her warmth is kind and calming. "If you don't want to, then you don't have to. I'm here for you."

"Okay," He breathes, closing his eyes and inhaling in her scent of sunlight and lily and spring, feeling her fingers massaging his scalp and erasing away the dots of tenseness on his head. He feels her hand going just a little lower, thumb nudging at every little spots of soreness on his neck and shoulders. "…Thanks."

"I'm here for you," She repeats, softly. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

"No," He murmurs, sighing dejectedly. They still have school tomorrow, and he is aware that it must've been in the middle of the night, at the very least. "…Sorry."

"As I said, don't apologize," She hums, pulling back and sitting up. Makoto takes a while longer, inhaling the lingering scent and imagining himself in the faint feelings of her arms before following suit, a little unsteady on his arms. "What do you want to do?"

"…I don't know," He confesses, frowning minutely. At times like this, he never knows what to do. He has been such a burden, an incompetent, incomplete imitation of a human being that he couldn't even stay perfectly sane for a day straight _without breaking—_

"Come here," Her voice jolts him out of his own mind, and he blinks owlishly, only to see her backing up against the headboard. He just tilts his head to the side, and she sighs, exasperated. "Just come here."

He complies, scooting over until he's sitting side by side with her, the both of them facing the night sky through the window together. He then feels her hand on his right one, on the one that is scarred and warped and crooked, and he relaxes when he feels her kneading the knots of stress away from his palm and his knuckles, her free hand coming up to pull his head against her shoulder.

He doesn't resist, letting his head falls against her, feeling her warmth seeping into his marrows and calming down his frantic heartbeat and his weary mind. He sighs, the nightmares now no more than an afterthought within him.

The silence is peaceful and calming, the blackened tar of his self-deprecation subsiding into the abyss that it has come from. He exhales, his breath hot against the tip of his nose, and he hums, squeezing her hand just a little more. "…Thank you."

"You're welcome," She says, and he could distinctly hear the small smile in her voice as she continues, her thumb drawing little lines along the scar in his hand. "Whatever the dream was about, know that I'll always be there for you, Makoto. Remember that."

"Mhm," He hums, relaxing against her form, absently pulling up her hand to kiss at her knuckles, feeling her relaxed under his lips. "I love you."

"And I you," She returns, her voice so warm and so kind.

Nightmares have always been the toxin that plagues and poisons his mind, stirring it along with the sludge of all the fear he feels and the dread that awaits him.

But with her here… he thinks, he'll be alright.

"Sweet dreams, Makoto," He hears her say as his eyes start to flutter, the exhaustion of the day and the nightmare finally catching up to him. "I'll be here when you wake up."

The last thing he feels is her warm hand and the scent of spring as he falls back asleep, the reassurance of her presence letting him have, just this once, a peaceful sleep where he could be free and fear nothing, where he has her by his side, where everything is alright, and everything is calm.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome!


End file.
